COSTA RICA – Farewell

Link to the previous page   Costa Rica - more of the caribbean                

24 March 2026

Our time in Costa Rica is drawing to a close.  Even though we weren’t able to do everything as we’d planned, we still had a lovely time on the Caribbean coast, full of interesting experiences.  We’ve bought our bus ticket to San José and, almost unbelievably, instead of the taxi we’d booked, a tuk-tuk turned up. To our great surprise, the driver stowed away our two suitcases and two rucksacks in no time at all, along with us, and took us to the bus stop.  The bus was on time and we travelled through the rainforest again in the comfortable coach to San José.

First of all, we have to go back to San Jose to pick up my driving licence from the German Embassy, amongst other things. We agreed on three days, having initially suggested two (me) and seven (Gerhard).  Picking up the driving licence from the Embassy went smoothly; it was just cancelling the mobile phone contract that took a bit longer.
So two days would have been a real problem.
And then came another big surprise: a wonderful flat, two bedrooms, a living room, a working TV, a small kitchen with all the trimmings, a corner with a great washing machine — and everything spotlessly clean. And the whole place was pleasantly warm with cosy beds. No freezing, just comfort. How we would have loved to stay longer...
Something I never would have thought possible: I even grew fond of San Jose. 
So we treated ourselves to a lovely afternoon coffee in the beautiful National Theatre.

We just couldn’t stay any longer; our first booking in Nicaragua was non-refundable, and we weren’t sure if we could still catch a bus or cross the border – we’d applied for the 90-day visa.
Just as we were about to book Ometepe (a large volcanic island in Lake Colibolca, a huge lake on the border with Costa Rica), it dawned on us that it was Easter week, the Easter holidays were on and celebrations would last for eight days, meaning prices would be sky-high, especially in the hotspots, and most places would be fully booked anyway. Rivas was only available for two days anyway, so we scrapped Ometepe for the time being and shifted our plans further north to Granada; the southern coast was now unaffordable.
Then, once again, the impossible happened two or three times over. We were really lucky with the bus station in San Jose; it was good, easily accessible even with our luggage (which, once again, was more than we’d intended – our consolation is always that the locals turn up with dozens of bags and sacks), and one side of the road was even passable with wheeled suitcases, as it was slightly downhill. The bus station was so tidy that we were simply amazed; the luggage was labelled and we were given a collection slip. The luggage handler was constantly shuffling the bags back and forth, presumably depending on where people were getting off. It hadn’t yet occurred to him to sort the luggage outside first. The bus was new, clean, very comfortable and had lovely large windows, without curtains constantly blocking the view. It was all very unusual by Costa Rican standards. Journey time: 3½ hours to Liberia.

Phew, I’m knackered – instead of 3½ hours, SEVEN hours!!! 
The Pan-American Highway is being widened along this stretch because there are always massive traffic jams here, but that means the section will actually be even narrower in the long run, leading to even bigger traffic jams, as the widening work poses major challenges due to the steep mountain slopes and everything is being carried out in a very uncoordinated manner, but: Pura Vida! Literally: pure life – and nobody gets upset.
We finally arrive at our accommodation at 7 pm, after the friendly taxi driver made sure our voices were heard and the door was opened for us.
A tense atmosphere then developed at reception. After much back and forth, it turned out that we had paid for a more expensive room, but the cheapest one – which was unacceptable and hard to describe – had been booked for us. A tradesman was still working in the better room because the air conditioning was broken. We categorically refused any attempts to make us take the small room. So it would take another hour. OK, let’s go for a meal. We gave the repairman two hours; by then it was 9.30 pm. We then agreed that he would stop and carry on the next day. It took a while longer for the room to be cleaned and tidied up again, and for us to finally have a shower and fall into bed.
After a good night’s sleep, we handed the room back to the friendly tradesperson.  Meanwhile, William, the owner, was getting increasingly anxious, as the room with the only air conditioning was fully booked again the next day, and asked, ‘Can’t we just…?’ No, we couldn’t, and to avoid further discussion, we spent the whole day wandering about outside instead of doing what we’d actually planned: working on the blog. That way, though, we were able to watch the huge, ultra-modern cathedral being decorated for the Easter Sunday procession and discovered a few saints in the storeroom, waiting to be brought back to life.
And we were able to catch a glimpse of the distant volcanoes.

The engineer didn't manage to get the air conditioning working after all, as it looks like it's a new unit. We don't want to be here when the new guests arrive, so we've found the only café with Wi-Fi. There aren't many in this area anyway, and today, on Palm Sunday, some of the few that are open are closed too.

30 March 2026

So tomorrow we’re off again, and we’ve found a bus that actually goes all the way through to Nicaragua – just get off at the Costa Rican border, get your passport stamped, pay, get back on the bus, then over to the Nicaraguan border post, this time taking your luggage with you, have it scanned (though there was no one at the conveyor belt), get your passport stamped, pay, and back on the bus, which was waiting on the other side. And what a sight it was to see people lugging their luggage from one border post to the other along a very long, rough track – and how relieved we were once again to have found this bus, which is truly worth every penny of the extra cost. It simplifies the whole procedure and makes it easier to fend off people who claim to want to help but against whom we’ve been strongly warned.

As soon as we arrived in Rivas, we were immediately surrounded by dozens of helpers. Help! First we need a coffee, then a moment to catch our breath. The main mode of transport here is a vehicle based on a bicycle frame with a cabin attached to the front. The driver sits behind the passengers, and it will remain a mystery to me how the cyclist can see anything from there, but so far nothing had happened – except that the address had been given incorrectly and the driver got so angry that he wanted to drop us off in the middle of nowhere, but we simply refused to get out and he finally listened to Gerhard’s instructions. 
(The crux of the matter was simply that the shop in question no longer existed, there was no house number or name, and a new sign for the accommodation wasn’t there yet   ...-G.)  It was very isolated there, but quite nice, with an unexpectedly well-kept street and property, but the flat turned out to be a small room filled with two large beds, yet containing only a small rack with four hangers. The very nice landlady treated us to some lovely natural fruit juices. But none of that could hide the fact that it was incredibly hot, and even two fans barely provided any relief, as the large windows only had fly screens and so let all the heat in unfiltered. As the whole place is quite new, the owners are hoping for a good review – this is sometimes suggested to you – but it explains why some reviews often turn out so inconsistent.

Luckily, we’d only booked two nights, as we’d actually intended to go to Ometepe Island, which was out of the question because of Easter, so we decided to explore Granada first.  So we spent a day strolling through Rivas.  
Rivas is a small town with a population of around 30,000, close to the border with Costa Rica and the ferry port in San Jorge for the island of Ometepe.  It is therefore also a transport hub for buses and trucks heading in all directions.

Attention - garden owners: the shape of many trees also deserves some attention!

After an initial evening welcome drink in Nicaragua, we set off again after waiting for the bus for two days. 

I’ve always been reluctant to say I’ve been duped, but here it really is systematic. It started back in Costa Rica, though not quite so extreme. Nicaragua has the most and the largest cathedrals, the most churchgoers, and they probably get their absolution before they commit the acts; and it really is the case that they see this as absolutely normal and regard it as a sort of sport: a success, and they’re delighted.
We’re still torn between annoyance and admiration for the ideas and the ruthlessness with which they’re carried out, but when it descends into disrespect, I find it hard to take it with a pinch of salt, even though we can’t change it.
Things got really extreme at the bus stop, which was already extreme in itself. Our son took us there and immediately pointed out that, in all the chaos of the traffic island, the bus stops sometimes on the right, sometimes on the left. So watch out, especially for your luggage. Everything stops there: city buses, simple intercity buses from the city (yellow American school buses), private buses on hire, and the proper buses where you pay for your ticket in advance and the driver actually has a passenger list. 
The first bus that turned up was a yellow one; we managed to get away from that one. The second was another yellow one, but they immediately pounced on our luggage, and it was only by running after them and shouting for help that we got our suitcases back. Then one of the private operators turned up, and there was no ‘no, no, no’ when they grabbed our luggage. ‘Yes, we’re the right people, we’re from the company and we’re going to Granada.’ There was nothing we could do; it all happened so fast we couldn’t even react. We were squeezed into the packed bus; our luggage had been in there for ages. When the fare was collected and Gerhard presented the booking, we were told that it had nothing to do with the bus; even long discussions didn’t help, even though he was the one who’d said earlier that this was the right bus and the driver had confirmed it too, but he just grinned. But that wasn’t all; halfway there, we were told: ‘Get off here if you’re going to Granada; the bus isn’t going to Granada but to Managua, the capital.  We were the only four Germans who’d been duped; there were no locals. But the private transport was already waiting, so we took one of the ‘black’ taxis, as there were no buses running from there and we didn’t fancy a tuk-tuk after an hour of standing – or rather, being squashed in, as there wasn’t even room to fall over. 

Link to the next page                         Nicaragua - Granada

The inserted travel routes were created with Google Maps.

Translated with DeepL.com